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  "Maybe we can toss the ball around later, get a little pick-up game going," Lacy said, finally realizing she'd hurt Reeva's feelings.

  "Yeah, a little touch football. We'll make it a picnic!" Allison was getting into the mood.

  "Touch football with a bunch of women just ain't the same," Reeva grumbled. But her eyes had lit up at the prospect and I saw Billie and Allison exchange relieved glances. I got the feeling no one wanted to see Reeva in a bad mood.

  Holly McIntyre and Fay Daniels were the last to arrive, and I couldn't help thinking of Mutt and Jeff. Holly had obviously spent hours doing her Farrah Fawcett hair and she was dressed to the nines. Fay wore an ancient tattered gray sweatshirt over faded jeans and looked like someone who'd never spent more than half a minute in front of a mirror. Her epic ponytail was the only evidence that somewhere beneath the bland exterior lay a tiny spark of vanity. I watched as she placed a wedge of melon, a banana and half of a dry bagel on her plate before sitting down.

  "Don't you want some cream cheese at least?" Lacy asked, wrinkling her nose at the healthy diet.

  Fay, obviously not a morning person, just smiled and shrugged, biting into the banana.

  "Looks like we're going to have to make you an honorary member," Holly said, shooting me a conspiratorial grin.

  "I was just leaving," I said. "Business meetings are not my thing."

  "Mine neither," Reeva grumbled. "I second that!" Karen said. I left chuckling over the constant bickering that seemed to permeate their every conversation. Like some big families, they seemed to thrive on sparring. Personally, I preferred more peace and quiet, and was glad to get outside.

  The grounds weren't as deserted as I'd hoped, but it probably wasn't ever going to get any better. I started with Reeva Dunsmoore's cabin, which was the farthest away from mine. I'd brought my lock picks with me but Reeva's door was unlocked. I waited for a group of women to pass, then turned the knob and stepped inside.

  Reeva hadn't made her bed, nor had she picked up her clothes. I did a quick look around and then, feeling guilty, went straight for her suitcase. The only thing of interest amid the underwear, T-shirts, jeans and flannels was a Swiss Army knife. Not that it meant anything, but if she had one, it was a good thing for me to know.

  As I continued my search, I was careful to put things back as I'd found them. I went through her bathroom, but there wasn't much of interest there. Her kitchen trashcan was full of beer cans, for the most part, but also signs that she'd had a few snacks from the well-stocked kitchen. There was no pate tin in the trash but when I searched the fridge and cupboard I couldn't find an unopened one either. Just because I had a tin of pate in my kitchen, and Allison had one in hers, didn't necessarily mean that every kitchen was stocked with the exact same items. On the other hand, if there had been a tin of pate to start with, there wasn't one now. Maybe Stella could enlighten me as to how the cabins were stocked.

  Feeling like I was spending too much time in Reeva's cabin, I quickly let myself out and headed for Billie's. I hadn't enjoyed going through Reeva's things and for some reason the prospect of violating Billie's privacy bothered me even more. I supposed I didn't want to believe that someone I liked was trying to kill Allison. But I'd never forgive myself if the one cabin I skipped turned out to be the assailant's. After waiting for a couple to stroll by, I stepped onto her porch and tried the door. Like Reeva's, it was unlocked and I let myself inside.

  Billie's cabin was neater than Reeva's. She'd picked wild flowers and placed them on the kitchenette table. Her curtains were wide open, which made the room quite bright but also meant that anyone passing by could see me prowling around. She'd put her clothes into the small drawers in the night-stand, and the rest were hung in the closet. Her tastes ran from flashy to wild, with lots of oranges and reds. Even her underwear were the french-cut silky kind.

  Her bed was made, and as I'd done in Reeva's room, I looked under the bed and checked under the pillows. The only thing I found was an expensive Nikon camera in a leather case. There was an opened bottle of chardonnay on the counter, corked with just a glassful missing. One wine glass sat upside down in the dish drainer on the counter. When I opened her refrigerator I found not one, but two tins of pate. I also noticed that she had a small jar of lumpfish caviar, something I'd not found in my own refrigerator. I was beginning to think that the notion of finding the killer by seeing who didn't have pate was a lost cause. The only thing of real interest in the whole cabin was that underneath the kitchen sink, I found a partially full container of rat poison. I hadn't taken the time to look under Reeva's sink. In fact, I'd never even looked under my own. I wondered if all the cabins had rat poison. And I wondered what rat poison would taste like.

  Outside, I checked my watch and knew that it was probably going to be impossible to look at all seven cabins. Karen Castillo's was next on my list, and I walked as quickly as I could. Between the women who'd opted to skip breakfast and those who'd just tumbled out of bed, the place was starting to become uncomfortably less deserted. Women were milling around, and sneaking in was becoming tricky. I pretended to tie my shoelaces as a woman jogged by, then quickly tried Karen's door. It was locked. I fumbled with my picks until I heard the satisfying click of the simple mechanism and the knob turned in my palm.

  When I got inside, I was struck by how neat everything looked. The bed was made up military-style with hospital corners and there wasn't a single wrinkle in the spread. I checked under the pillow and was careful to place it back exactly as I'd found it.

  Under the bed I found a suitcase, the clothes inside folded with such precision, I was afraid to disturb them. I cautiously slid my hand underneath the clothes and when my hand bumped against something hard, my heart quickened.

  Slowly, I slid the object out. It was a lady's wallet. Aside from a hundred and twenty three dollars, there were two gas company credit cards, a Visa and an American Express card, each neatly encased in a plastic sheath. There was a photo compartment with four pictures which I found interesting. One was of Karen in the classroom, her arm around two boys in front of the chalkboard. On the board was a chart of what looked like the periodic tables. Another photo was similar to one Allison had shown me of the WOT staff standing behind a snowman. Lacy had locked arms with Holly and both were laughing. Reeva had her arms crossed in front of her, her tongue stuck out at the camera. Sabrina, smiling shyly, had one arm around Karen, the other around someone who'd been cut out of the picture. I knew from having seen Allison's print, that it was Allison who'd been excised. The only people missing were Billie, who must have taken the picture, and Fay, who hadn't been part of the group yet.

  I felt my pulse quicken, staring at the altered photo. This could be my first real clue. Why would Karen cut Allison's picture out of the group shot? The other two prints were of a big, black Labrador, yellow eyes gleaming at the camera.

  There was no pate in Karen's refrigerator, and since her trash had been emptied, there was no way of knowing if there ever had been. Just as at Billie's, there was a partially full container of rat poison under the sink. As I let myself out the door, I was still kicking myself for not having looked under Reeva's sink.

  I'd spent too much time looking through Karen's wallet, and had to jog past the lodge toward the other cabins. Women were now out in increasing numbers, and a few looked up and smiled as I passed. I tried to look like I was out for the exercise rather than in a hurry, but my heart was racing. When I reached the next cabin, I had to waste several minutes before I could safely approach the door.

  Sabrina and Lacy's suite was almost identical to ours. I let myself into Sabrina's side, checking my watch. I only had about twenty minutes before Allison's ninety minutes were up.

  Sabrina's curtains were closed, which was a relief, considering all the women out and about. I did a quick glance through her closet and drawers, surprised to find a book tucked away beneath her underwear. Holding my breath, I flipped through the pages, hoping I'd found her diary. But each
page, although penned in her own tiny scrawl, was filled with nothing but poetry. It was depressing stuff. It made Sylvia Plath sound cheerful.

  The clouds, though they seem nonchalant, are watching, waiting, lurking near, they follow me, their bellies black, like hounds they sniff the air for fear.

  On another page:

  Should I slit them down or up, or maybe straight across? And who will notice, who will care, when all the blood is lost?

  I put the book back, suddenly burdened by the desperation and hopelessness in her words. I felt myself moving more slowly than I should have and forced myself to snap out of it.

  There was no pate in Sabrina's refrigerator, but lo and behold, there was at last an empty container in her trash can! Even better, there was a partially empty box of Ritz crackers in the cupboard. I hadn't thought to check for crackers in the other cabins, but this was promising. Of course, if someone checked my cabin, they'd find that my own box of Ritz crackers was partially empty.

  There was no rat poison under her sink. Had she used up the rest of her rat poison in the pate, and then taken it to Allison's cabin? If so, what had she done with the container of poison? And most of all, had the pate even been poisoned in the first place? I was operating on the assumption that it had been, but I knew it was just as possible that I was wrong. Besides, rat poison wasn't the only common poison. The normal household was full of deadly concoctions. These cabins probably were too.

  I had no time to mull any of this over. My time was almost up. I went through the adjoining bathroom, taking a quick look in the medicine cabinet. I was surprised by the array of medications lined up on the shelf. Some were prescription drugs with Sabrina's name on them. At least she was getting help for her depression, I thought, studying the labels. But I wondered what kind of doctor would prescribe so many things at once. Surely, if she were taking Prozac, she shouldn't also need Valium. There was also an impressive assortment of vitamins, which I didn't have time to look at. I slipped into Lacy's room, intent on giving it at least a quick once-over before making my escape. I knew there was no way I'd have time to see both Holly's and Fay's cabins too.

  Lacy's room was a cross between Karen's ultra-tidiness and Reeva's complete disarray. Whereas Lacy had pulled up the bedspread, she hadn't bothered to smooth the blankets and sheets beneath it, so it appeared lumpy. There were no clothes strewn around the room, but when I opened the closet, they were piled on the floor. Lacy apparently was a slob who didn't want other people to know it. I couldn't find signs of any pate, but I did notice a pretty full box of the rat poison, along with a mouse trap under the sink. The resort must be crawling with rodents, I thought, heading for the door.

  At the last second, I paused to look under Lacy's bed and pillow. To my surprise, I actually felt a hard lump inside the pillowcase. Another diary? My heart surged. I pulled out what to my surprise and disappointment turned out to be nothing more than a Bible. I slipped it back inside the pillowcase, wondering why she'd hidden it, and let myself out.

  By now, the grounds were virtually crawling with people as the bus bearing the new arrivals had finally made it up the mountain. I jogged toward the last two cabins knowing I probably wouldn't have time to search both. I was more interested in Holly's, but Fay's was closer.

  After a bit of artful dodging, I approached Fay's door and knocked several times to make sure she was gone. The door was locked, so once again, I went to work with my picks.

  Fay's room was almost as tidy as Karen's. Her clothes, a mundane collection of faded sweats and jeans, were loosely stacked in piles on the closet shelf and it didn't appear as though Fay had bought herself a new outfit in twenty years.

  On the nightstand next to the bed I found an old Army T-shirt that was so thin I could almost see through it. Someone had used a black marker to print a name on the label and I wondered who F. Anderson was. Did Fay wear someone else's old T-shirt to bed at night? Or did the F stand for Fay herself? She was certainly neat enough to have been in the Army, I thought. If the shirt was hers, her name must have been Anderson at one time. Had Fay been married?

  There was a pocket-sized computerized chess game in the nightstand drawer, testimony to her reclusive nature, but there was nothing at all that led me to believe she was involved in Allison's situation. Sighing, I let myself out of the cabin, knowing I'd pushed my luck time-wise. The moment I stepped out the door, I saw them coming.

  Sabrina, Allison, Holly, Fay and Lacy walked straight toward me up the path and I felt my pulse quicken as I scrambled for an explanation.

  "Out for another walk?" Sabrina asked, blowing the blond bangs off her forehead.

  "Trying to walk off that breakfast," I improvised. "How'd your meeting go?"

  They exchanged glances and Holly rolled her eyes. "Same ol', same ol’ We can't agree, so we agree to disagree. Which means about six hundred more meetings. Reeva wants us to turn our back on the Democratic Party until they start backing us. Allison says we'll lose what little support we have. It goes 'round and 'round."

  "So what's new?" Lacy said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Reeva not only wants to bite the hand that feeds her, she thinks anyone else who doesn't is a coward."

  "She's just more committed than some of us," Sabrina said. She seemed surprised she'd spoken and hugged her sweater around her.

  "Reeva has some good points," Allison said. "There's room in this organization for dissenting points of view."

  "Allison's just being magnanimous," Lacy said, flashing me a full-toothed grin. "She knows Reeva's a pain."

  "She's not a pain," Sabrina insisted, her pale cheeks coloring. "She just doesn't express her ideas as well as some people."

  I was beginning to wish I hadn't asked.

  "Aren't you glad you didn't stick around?" Holly asked, as if reading my mind. "Hang out with this group long enough, we'll almost start to seem normal." She shot me a conspiratorial wink.

  We were standing just outside Fay's cabin in a patch of sun. It was mid-morning, and the air was thick with pine scent. Blue jays quarreled above us and the ever present roar of a waterfall could be heard in the distance. If only Maggie were with me, I'd have loved to spend the day exploring the surrounding forest. Allison must have seen the look in my eyes.

  "Wait till you see where we're going for lunch," she said. Sabrina shot her a hurt glance, but Allison seemed oblivious.

  "It's about the only thing anyone could agree on," Fay added. A small smile played at her mouth but disappeared quickly, as if she were afraid someone might think she was being critical. I was beginning to think that her silent act had more to do with shyness than a lack of something to say.

  "Aside from the island, it's my favorite spot up here," Lacy said. "Best place in the world for a picnic. But you've got to bring something decadent if you're going to join us. And I've already got dibs on mini-mart brownies."

  "Of course she's going to join us," Holly said. "Aren't you?"

  Sabrina's eyes were smoldering.

  "I don't want to crash a private party. I mean, if it's business, you don't need someone hanging around ..."

  "We've had enough business for one day. This is purely pleasure." Holly regarded me with humor. She too must have caught Sabrina's reaction to Allison's inviting me along. I got the feeling Holly was enjoying the interaction.

  We went our separate ways, with plans to meet at the base of the hiking trail at eleven-thirty. I walked Allison back to her cabin, checking first to make sure all was safe inside. Then I let myself into my place through the bathroom and told Allison to let me know if she went out. She assured me that after so many sleepless nights, all she wanted was to take a brief nap.

  Even so, I checked the camera to make sure nothing obscured the view and then, knowing I often did my best thinking in the kitchen, went straight for the fridge.

  I rummaged around, deciding pate was definitely out. I found a jar of green, pimento-stuffed olives, a slab of cheddar and some Bisquick. Improvising, I made up a c
heddar dough and rolled it into quarter-sized balls, inserting an olive into each round. This gave me an idea, so I searched the cupboards for other things to wrap in the dough. Vienna sausage? Why not? Sardines? Definitely out. I found a can of nuts and folded almonds and cashews into the cheese dough, laughing at my weird sense of adventure. When at last I ran out of dough, I slid the "cheese balls" into the oven and hoped for the best. Ten minutes later, they were puffed and golden. Satisfied, I cleaned up the kitchen, then got to work.

  I started by making a chart of what I knew. I made a brief character sketch of each woman, followed by possible motives, relationships to Allison, particular talents and skills, observable eccentricities and general behavior patterns. I drew lines connecting the women, with explanations of how they related to one another. My hand was starting to cramp when Allison knocked on my door, telling me it was time to go. I looked at what I d written and shook my head. Two things were clear: Allison had surrounded herself with an interesting assortment of oddballs, and I was no closer to knowing which one of them wanted to kill her.

  Chapter Ten

  I was surprised, and in truth a bit relieved, to see that the group at the base of the trail included others besides the staff of Women On Top. Billie had brought the woman staying in the cabin next to hers. Peaches was a short, heavy-set computer analyst in her early twenties, who giggled nervously upon being introduced. Reeva brought her dance partner from the night before, Harriet, a slender, feminine Asian wearing a midriff and pink bicycle shorts with a gold hoop protruding from her navel. With Karen was another couple who'd come all the way from Arizona to vacation at the resort. They were an attractive, athletic pair in their fifties and looked enough alike to be sisters. They were both in real estate and I hoped to God neither of them asked me about the Oregon market.

  The trail wound through the forest, lacy trees arching overhead, occasional streams crossing our path. As we climbed, the sound of the waterfall grew louder. The forest floor was lush with wild mushrooms sprouting out of fallen logs, and fat robins hopped through the wildflowers searching for worms. Mosquitoes buzzed around our heads as we hiked.